


Sore Butt, Clean Conscience

by GypsyQueen7



Series: Sore Butt,Clean Conscience [1]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: F/M, Panic Attacks, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GypsyQueen7/pseuds/GypsyQueen7
Summary: After a new Detective in Intelligence screws up on a take down, almost getting herself and Dawson killed Voight offers her a choice - be formally written up or submit to his form of discipline.
Relationships: Hank Voight/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Sore Butt,Clean Conscience [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747804
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Sore Butt, Clean Conscience

I sit dithering in my car outside of the house for about an hour at least. The street is quiet, a suburban neighbourhood. I watch the swing of the house over the road move in the breeze as I try to pick the right thing to do. Of course, I know the right thing to do – it is to drive home and accept the consequences of my actions after I am written up for my conduct tomorrow. Yet, I had worked so hard for my Detective status newly earned I didn’t want to lose that or my Sergeant’s respect along with it. 

I knew that I had screwed up today – I knew that I had nearly got myself and my partner badly injured or killed. Being new to team was hard; being new to being a Detective and in a unit is so close as this team was is worse than hard. I had just wanted to prove myself to them – that I wasn’t the newbie that had no idea what she was doing. That I had earned my badge on my own merit and not got it through bribery or luck. 

As I sat here now watching the numbers change on my clock display I knew I had to make a decision now. With the numbers changing quicker and quicker towards 11pm I knew that my time was almost up. His words rang in my ears as loud as they had in his office after the shift had ended and the team had filed out to go home,

“As far as I can see it you have two options: 1. I write you up. This will appears on your record, you will have a Hearing with the senior officers and you may lose your Detective status or your job or; 2. We wipe the slate clean another way. I trust you near my team and out in the field again, nothing is on your records and you keep that Detective status and your job. You have until 11pm to decide and inform me of your decision. If I do not hear from you by 11pm, I will assume that you have picked the first option and I will write you up first thing in the morning. Get out of my office, take a walk, and pick your option.”

It was 10:39 now and I was still sitting in my car, still unsure of what my decision was going to be. As the minutes ticked by I knew what I had to do. I had worked far too many hours and sacrificed far too much to lose it all on one stupid mistake. 

With that, I got out of the car, the car door slamming echoed around the silent street as I began the walk from my car up the drive to the front door. With a deep breath, I knock. His footsteps seem loud and my stomach twists violently as I hear the chain being pulled back and the lock turning in the door. As the door swung open the light from inside temporarily blinded me and I turn my downwards to study my feet intensely as I say the words that I have been deliberating over for the last 4 hours,

“Option 2. I pick option 2.”

As silence fell, I move my eyes from their position studying my shoes upwards to focus on the man in the doorway. As my gaze fixes on him, he raises an eyebrow and moves to the left in order to admit me into his home. I take a deep breath and step into Hank Voight’s home, already dreading my decision. 

Inside of Voight’s house I hover unsure of what to do or what I have just let myself in for. Voight’s expression is unreadable as he locks the door behind me and slides the chain back into place. I follow his lead and toe my shoes off in the doorway, shrugging my jacket off and folding it on top. Voight motions for me to follow him and so with little other choice I do so. He moves into the living room and gestures for me to sit on one of the chairs facing the couch. My stomach is turning knots as I sit and fold my hands in my lap twisting my ring round and round my forefinger avoiding his gaze. Eventually when 5 minutes have passed with no sounds at all, I look up to find Voight just watching me. He is sitting on the couch opposite, one leg folded over the other with one arm resting on his leg and the other along the back of the couch. The picture of ease – like he wasn’t about to do god knows what to his subordinate. 

I swallow nervously, his face still emotionless, as I ask,

“What are you going to do?”

I dart my eyes back down to my lap again. I’m completely unable to look at him, my breath is coming in fast gasps as I begin to panic. What had I let myself in for? A million things flashed through my mind as to what he could do – sexual favours, a beating, humiliation, the list went on and on and as each flashed faster before my minds eye. My breath kept going faster, my heart rate increasing, a loud humming started in my ears drowning out the silence and my nails dug into my palm so hard that I felt the skin break and blood began to trickle down my hands. I was having a panic attack when I felt a hand to top of my own, warm and strong, prising my grip open and pressing a tissue on to the open cut on my hand stemming the bleeding. The opened my eyes again startled at the touch to find Voight crouched in front of me his eyes fixed firmly on me. I close my eyes again and try to concentrate on my breathing and slow it down. I begin to count breath in 1…2…3…4 and out 2…3…4 and in 2…3…4. Slowly my breath slowed and I felt the ringing in my ears start to die away. I keep my eyes shut long after my breath had stopped and my heart rate had slowed to a soft pounding in my chest. 

“You back with me now?”

His voice cut through the silence and I my eyes flit open quickly making contact with his steely brown ones. He raised an eyebrow silently demanding a response. I jerk my head sharply down and up again in answer. I glance down to find him still holding a tissue to my hand. He moves his hand away, taking the tissue with him to examine the wound to my hand. It isn’t that bad after the bleeding has stopped. Three purple half moon crescents have been etched on my palm along with one red blooded one, not my worst battle scar obtained from a panic attack by any shot. 

“Good.”

He moves from his crouch to stand and opts to perch on the coffee table and not move back around to the couch again. He leans forward resting both elbows on his knees so that he is eye line with me and as I try to move my head downwards again his hand moves to catch my chin. He gently, but firmly, moves it back up so that I have to hold his gaze. 

“It is polite in a conversation to look at someone.”

He admonishes at me I nod once again.

“You can leave this house at any point, I won’t stop you, however be aware that you leave, I write you up tomorrow. You put yourself and other in danger with reckless and stupid behaviour today and for that you have earned a trip over my knee for a spanking. I do not take insubordination in my team so this will hurt however; at the end of it, you will have earned yourself a clean slate and my respect back. You again have two choices now that you have the full facts; either go home and be written up or take your jeans down and bend over my lap for a spanking. Those are your options.”

With the end to the longest thing that I have every heard Hank Voight say he moved from perching on the coffee table to sitting back on the couch this time with both feet on the ground. My mind was whirling – a spanking? My parents had been quite liberal growing up; I had never had a spanking before. I knew that it would hurt; Voight wasn’t one for going half-assed at some thing. The temptation to run out of the door was high yet again though my mind turned to that Detective badge that I had fought so hard to gain. Then my thoughts turned to the incident earlier – the guilt from almost getting Dawson hurt or even killed was still wrapped around my stomach like a steel chain pulling harder as I thought about the three gunshots still echoing in my ear as loud as they had been 7 hours earlier. I knew walking out that door would be easier but I also knew that the guilt of what had happened would follow. I trusted Voight’s lead with work so I took a breath, stood up from the chair and moved towards him. My eyes darted once more for the door and then with a deep breath I undone the button of my jeans and pushed them down to my knees. Voight’s hands moved to help me in to position over his knees. My feet on the ground, knees bent and my torso hanging over his knees, arms stretched forward to catch my weight on the ground below.

If you had told me 24 hours ago when I was told that I would be helping the Intelligence Unit of the CPD that I would end up ass up over the Sergeant’s knees then I would possibly have laughed but defiantly run in the opposite direction. Voight moved to pull my underwear down and I quickly jerked a hand backwards in a vain attempt to stop him from baring me completely. The hand was caught in a vice like grip and moved to be pinned in the small of my back. 

“Tell me why you are here?”

Voight’s voice echoed disembodied from above me. My heart rate begins to pick up again as I lay there completely helpless bare assed across his knee. However I know that the less I delay the less time this will take and then I can run home to lick my wounds so to speak. 

“I…I put Detective Dawson in danger. I nearly got him killed Sir.” 

I stutter and stumble my way through the sentence. I heard a hum of approval from above me and then a silence. 

“What else?”

I squirm quietly unsure of what else he could be angry at. 

“What about your own safety? Does that mean nothing to you? You could have got yourself and Dawson seriously hurt or even killed. That is two offences – nearly getting someone else hurt and putting your own life in danger. Usually you would earn the belt for either one of those offences however seeing how it is your first time across my knee you will be getting 100 spanks – that is 50 per offence. Be warned you will feel my belt if I have to talk to about this ever again. Am I clear?”

“Yes sir”

I hang my head and shift more of my weight on to my hand as I feel one of his hands move from gripping my wrist and I tense instinctively. However, nothing happens. I try to turn to see what he is doing however as soon as I concentrate on that and not anticipating the slap it comes down. A loud clap echoes and suddenly pain blooms on my right butt cheek. I gasp at the impact however; Voight doesn’t give me time to breathe as another slap comes down the other side. He quickly gets in to a rhythm of alternating cheeks, and switching where he slaps. He is covering the whole of my ass and making sure that sitting tomorrow is going to be very difficult indeed. My ass quickly feels like it is on fire and I am squirming a little on his lap trying to get away from the hits that rain down red-hot pain onto my butt. I have lost count and as the pain intensifies I feel the steel chain of guilt begin to ease from around my middle. I feel Voight tip his knee up and I am suddenly forced further onto my hand as he smacks down on the junction between my right butt cheek and thigh. I cry out at that – the pain escalating. I throw my other hand back to try and protect myself however Voight just grabs that and moves it to the small of my back with my other hand. He begins to rain smack after smack down now on the under curve of my ass. I feel warm tears begin to track their way down my cheeks as the pain builds to an excruciating level. I vow to never be so stupid again. Just as this vow crosses my mind the smacks stop. I am still sobbing hard when I feel my underwear being pulled up and my hands released from the small of my back. I don’t move for a second, still unsure as to whether the punishment is ongoing. Voight carefully helps me to my feet and moves my jeans up my legs; I grimace and hiss as the denim brushes against the tops of my thighs. 

I am then moved again and I feel myself being pulled downwards to perch on Voight’s lap as he moves my head to his shoulder and just lets me cry. He feels so warm and safe. Something that I really did not expect to associate with the hard-as-nails, tough cop that I was introduced to earlier yesterday. I calm quickly and sit up, wincing again as my butt is pressed against one of his knees. He brushes the hair out of my eyes and his voice is quiet as he says 

“You’re forgiven. You have paid for your mistake. Its in the past.”

I nod and look down shyly as I ask the question that is burning in my mind

“Do you do this with all of your team or just idiot rookies?”

I feel the rumble of a laugh in Voight’s chest as he tips my head up. 

“I do this for most of my team – Olinsky prefers to punish Rusaek though. It is rare that Jay or Antonio find themselves in your position. They try to keep their butts out of the firing line. You have nothing to be ashamed of – all of them have caught a spanking from me once or twice.”

I nod glad that I could still look them in the eye tomorrow. I stand and move towards the door. As I reach it I turn,

“Thank you”

Voight just nods slightly and moves to stand to let me out of the front door. 

I drive away from Hank Voight’s house with a sore butt and a clear conscience.

I come into work the next day and as I approach my desk, I see that someone has put a cushion on the chair. Not a word is said, Rusaek nods slightly at me and Erin smiles as she catches my eye. Not a word is muttered. Maybe being part of Intelligence isn’t so bad after all – until I break another of Voight’s rules that is…


End file.
